


the boy with all the gifts

by melloneddy



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV), The Umbrella Academy (TV) RPF
Genre: ??? - Freeform, AHAHAHA, I am in a mood today kids, I am projecting my own fears about global panic now, I'm just messing around, Idiots in Love, Its very one sided, Jeez, Klaus has the biggest crush of all time, Klaus is just a disaster smh, Klive - Freeform, Multi, Pandemic - Freeform, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, So don't worry, The Girl With All The Gifts - Freeform, There is more than one chapter, Vanya is a beautiful and wonderful soul, Well - Freeform, Zombie, a new sitcom coming to you EXCLUSIVELY on ao3, allison is a little bitch, alright I realize that tag may have been a bit much, also idk about the klive bit, ben is pretty quiet but good too, but redeemable ig she just a lil proud, but they're all kids, but when has he not been, do you not like pepper on pizza, five causes a goddamn plague, five do be havin nice features though, five has a different power, five is a lil less brash and sarcastic here, five literally eats live flesh no I am not joking, for absolutely no reason, get that fire exit door luv I'm off, god I love vanya, i don't know how to change it, if I'm not making Rachel Maddow proud am I really succeeding, ig, it's like putting pepper on a really good pizza, keeping up with the hargreeves family!, might turn funny though, mostly because Klaus sees a new person and is like "hell yes bitch FRESH MEAT", no beta we die like men, no one knows who five is cause he's been Vanya'd for thirteen whole years smh, not really - Freeform, or epidemic, please don't kill me this is my first fic in 85703854 years, pls read this, premise is weird enough, probably, replace the metaphor with something you like then, right this is not a sitcom, stick around to find out, straight up, that's not good for the wellbeing of the people in this fic, the bastard cannot chill can he, well i do, what am I saying he looks like a malnourished lego, where? the hell? is this? going?, yeah more of an epidemic now, you'll see - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:48:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 17,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23765608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melloneddy/pseuds/melloneddy
Summary: Sir Reginald Hargreeves had not bargained for this.The first four babies were fine. They grew up controllable, feisty, and fine.But there was something wrong with Baby Five.(otherwise known as, five has a very destructive and awful "power" and there's nothing to be done for it but pull a vanya for thirteen years. finally introducing him to his siblings at thirteen years old doesn't go very well.)
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy & Allison Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Ben Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Diego Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Grace Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Klaus Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Luther Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Vanya Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy/Klaus Hargreeves
Comments: 86
Kudos: 312





	1. sir regional harbinger-of-suffering-and-misery is horrendous, we get it, what else is new

**Author's Note:**

> hey!
> 
> uhh......
> 
> well, I'm back.
> 
> I have no idea how many people are a) still around or b) even know I was gone for like 2 years--but anyway, that's all behind us and we are BACK, BABY! ...at least on this platform.
> 
> so I've hyperfixated on the umbrella academy for about a year. and I know, most of the hype has died, but hopefully s2 will get everyone back on the GRAAAAVY TRAIN AHAHA
> 
> if you haven't seen or read the girl with all the gifts, pls go look through the wikipedia for like 2 min and this will make a lot more sense. or don't, you really don't need to. you know the gist of this; you read the summary.
> 
> um...
> 
> please leave me a comment so I know this godforsaken site is still working

Sir Reginald Hargreeves had not bargained for this.

He hated children, but he understood what must be done. Collection went without a hitch. He knew not all the babies would survive; he knew not all the mothers would accept his payment. But he would have enough.

Baby One was fine. He was quiet, somber. Baby Two would not stop crying until Reginald got a nanny, and Baby Three acted normal, if not a bit too wise for her month and a half. Baby Four was giggly, but cried often as well, and the nanny learned that he liked for a curtain to be draped over his crib so he didn’t have to look at anybody.

All this was stranger than normal, but Sir Reginald Hargreeves knew that would be a natural consequence of these children he had found. It went without a hitch up till then.

The fifth baby was where things began to get complicated.

Not in the collection. Baby Five screamed alone in a small crib as his mother and her family shook across the room. Reginald had no problem obtaining the child--the family didn’t even want payment. In their broken English they cried to him that they just wanted it gone. Reginald found this to be a welcome surprise; the children were beginning to hurt his pockets. 

But as the mother shakily reached into the crib to hand Reginald the kid, something went wrong. She screamed and drew back. Blood trickled from her finger, and she sank into a corner, sobbing. Her family yelled and ran. Confused, Reginald drew closer, but the mother held out a splayed hand, halting him. A long string of drool dropped down from her gaping mouth. Reginald moved,

and Baby Five’s mother slit her own throat and fell down, gurgling.

Immediately there were problems with the kid. Reginald left him with the nanny for a day, and when he came back with Baby Six in tow, she was dead in the corner of the fifth bedroom with a bloody bite mark on her neck. That was the first one he had to replace. As for the kids, he had to stop collecting after Baby Seven; it was already too much to handle--not to mention the fact that Baby Five wouldn’t eat. They had to feed him intravenously while he cried and screamed and looked far too pale, his small and inexplicable teeth almost the same corpse-like white as his skin. This went on for years. The other children grew up slowly but well; Reginald honed in on their abilities before they were five. Six was the first to speak, and Four, Seven and Three followed close behind. 

Five only cried that he was hungry.

Five’s complicated sorts of needs kept him from the other children. When they learned to count, they asked why their numbers went from four to six. Grace, who had been built partly for Seven but mostly for Five, told them immediately they had another brother they would never see. Reginald couldn’t figure out how to punish her for it.

Five concerned Reginald more every day. He snapped and clutched for anybody who walked in save Grace, and he would eat any bug he saw. Reginald kept the boy in a barred-off makeshift cell to keep him from biting, and wondered why he had such an oral fixation. One day he told Grace to open the door, and took a gamble. He threw a live mouse into the room, managing to slam the door just as the kid lunged at the opening.

It was fascinating, watching from the window as the six-year-old devoured it.

There was a marked increase in his cognitive ability after that, and Reginald learned to keep him fed. Grace taught him, and after years of study some odd things were learned.

Mainly:

  1. Subject only eats live meat. 
  2. Subject will enter a state of sharp cognitive decline and blind aggression if left alone for more than six hours, or upon encountering unfamiliar animals.
  3. Subject exhibits an exceptional sense of smell.



But Number Five was extraordinarily intelligent. He was gifted especially in mathematics, and it wasn’t long before his eloquence could, on occasion, battle with Reginald’s. It wasn’t a secret that there were other children in the house, and Five began to want to meet them with a determination that was almost annoying.

Every day: “I’m better at controlling. I can talk to other people now. I can.”

And every day: “It is for the safety of everyone in this household, including you, that you stay put.”

And it continued until the children were thirteen.

\-------

“You’re not supposed to be reading that.”

Allison’s stare was practically boring holes in Klaus’ _Teen Vogue,_ and it was massively uncomfortable, given the fact all five kids were crammed into the back of their notoriously small transport van. Their second mission ever had gone well. As had their first. Reginald was in a great mood because of it, and Allison would be hard-pressed to let her weirdest brother ruin it. Klaus knew this, apparently, and threw aside the magazine with nothing more than a small grumble. That was it for the next ten minutes, but Klaus was bored now, and so he commenced to do what he always did when he was bored: start a fire and watch it burn.

“You guys think Number Five’s been trained?”

This was met with more uncomfortable silence. Diego spoke up.

“Dad isn’t gonna--”

“--tell us anything anyway, so you can stop before you get us all Saturday training.” Luther loved to finish Diego’s sentences; Diego hated it. If Klaus didn’t see the obvious, sickening lovebird eyes Luther made at Allison every ten minutes, he’d think the two were a married couple.

And cue more silence.

“He must be really sick,” murmured Allison. Every once in a while she got concerned. It was fun to watch everyone else shoot her down.

“We’re really not supposed to ask about him,” Ben muttered, quiet but loud enough for Diego to hear.

“Yeah, exactly. We’ll be in big trouble. Besides, I’m not even sure he exists.”

“But what if he is trained, and he’s just being locked away somewhere because his power is really, really big? Like when the government hoards nuclear weapons.” Klaus grinned. “I wonder if he’s hot.”

Groans and outrage from the peanut gallery.

\-------

  
  



	2. number five is tryin his best but allison's just a rude lil bugger isn't she

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> five meets his siblings for the first time and it does not go well. don't worry lads, five's a bit timid in this one but he'll be our disgusting little rat boy soon enough

Well, Number Five did exist. And Number Five sat in his special wheelchair (he could walk, and run too, but this wheelchair was made just for him because there were belt-like loops on it where his hands and feet and neck got strapped in case Reginald wanted to look at him in person) and waited for Grace’s news. 

For the first half hour there was no news, just Grace dangling different live animals at him and asking if he was hungry. Of course he was hungry; Five hadn’t eaten in a whole day. But he knew that’s not what she meant. Grace meant the bad hunger, the thing that made his mouth and hands move all by themselves and hurt him in his chest for days if he didn’t eat whatever it was he smelled.

But today something was going right with Five, and though the animals smelled good, there was no drool and his jaw did not click once. It was a triumph, and when Grace patted his head, said  _ Good job! _ and left to speak to Reginald outside the cell, Five felt so happy he didn’t stop smiling for the next ten minutes. He didn’t stop smiling when Reginald came in, and he didn’t stop smiling when he was informed that his impulse control’d improved big time.

He definitely didn’t stop smiling when he heard the next part.

———

A new person?

What?

The Hargreeves siblings were only allowed to talk during one meal. Breakfast. It was breakfast now, and they were going to be joined. There was a new seat between Vanya and Diego, and nobody wanted to say who they knew it was. But they whispered, and they talked--uncomfortably, mind you, because Reginald was supervising today, and he never did that during breakfast. They were so engrossed in their murmurs, even, that they didn’t notice the short boy in the identical uniform until he was standing right above the empty seat.

He fidgeted with his sleeves, clearly uncomfortable.

“Hi. I’m Number-Number Five. Five.”

They were all silent. Normally, Klaus would have spoken first in this situation, but for once in his life, he had no words to say.

Because Number Five was  _ hot _ . 

Klaus recognized that it was maybe not conventional. If he was going by standards, Five’s nose was too big, his ears stuck out, and he was way too bony. Something about his eyes, though--green, just like Klaus’. And the nervous fidget, and the way he kept blinking and biting his lip--god, he’s almost  _ drooling _ . 

Five was looking just about on the verge of tears, however, and if the ethereal pale creature in front of him wept Klaus thought he might die of yearning. So he gathered himself and smiled the biggest smile he could. “Sit!”

Five startled, and there were actual tears in his eyes now. He was shaking a little bit, and Klaus wanted to die.  _ Look what you’ve done, you’ve made a fool of yourself. If he was really sick and has never seen anyone really before he’s got to be overwhelmed. That means you’re Rapunzel’s prince and you have got to be gentler!  _ But Vanya to the rescue, because she patted the seat and smiled softly, and Five seemed to relax. He sat down, and did nothing else.

There was a bit of tension in the room. Klaus almost didn’t hear the next few things that were said, because he was trying to map out every square inch of Five’s face in his memory for later.

“Aren’t you gonna eat?” Diego frowned. Five startled yet again, and shook his head frantically. (His hair fell out of its perfect swoop and across his face. Klaus nearly died.) 

“What are you eating?” Again, in that soft, shy almost-stutter. It’s a genuine question.

Allison is confused. “Uh, oatmeal? We always eat this.”

“What’s oatmeal?”

The clinking of spoons stops. Something’s very wrong here. 

“You don’t know what oatmeal is? You got an allergy or something?” Diego frowned. Klaus could tell he was trying to be nice, but a bit of that telltale Number Two sass always managed to slip through.

Now Five was clutching his arms. He looked scared, and a bright flush of red had begun to stand out on his chalk-white cheeks and the tips of his ears. He whispered something.

“Huh?”

“What--what is...what is an allergy?” Even saying the thing seemed to drain the rest of Five’s mental energy, and he drew his knees up to his chest in what was definitely a rude way to sit at the table.

Now Diego was incredulous. “You have got to be kidding me.” But Luther poked him from the other side, and mumbled something angrily into his ear, and Diego rolled his eyes, huffed, and went back to his oatmeal. 

Allison, though, wasn’t finished. She hadn’t taken a bite in ages, studying Five almost as intensely as Klaus. “So what do you eat?”

Five freezes up. “Meat.” Allison laughed, and Five blinked at her like he didn’t understand why.

“Obviously you can’t just eat meat. That’s weird.” Five didn’t respond; she decided to humor him. “What kind of meat, then?”

A light went on in Five’s face. This was a question he knew how to answer. “I like rabbits sometimes. And I hardly ever get snakes, but I like those a lot. I hate grubs, though. Dad says they’re protein good as any, and you know when you’re  _ hungry _ and everything tastes the same, but I wish he’d just give me squirrels or something.” Towards the end, he faltered off when he saw how everybody was looking at him, and Timid Five was back, head so far down he was almost looking down his own shirt.

The table was quiet until breakfast was done, and Reginald led the new kid away, back to wherever he'd been before. The rest of the kids were left to sit there in incredulous silence. 

Allison had a grimace on her face that even Luther couldn’t find attractive. “Something is wrong with him.”

Klaus gasped. “Rude!”

“Come  _ on!  _ Squirrels?  _ Grubs?  _ He didn’t know what an allergy was!”

“So? He’s sheltered!”

“So are we!”

Ben interjected. “Maybe it’s just a side effect of his power or something? Like how Klaus can’t wear shoes if he wants to float? Or how Allison has to use the words.”

Allison’s grimace directed itself at him now. She made a small  _ ugh  _ sound in the back of her throat. “That was weird. Even Klaus hasn’t ever been that weird.”

Luther opened his mouth for the first time. “Stop it. He’s sick. We probably won’t ever see him again anyway, knowing Dad.” Allison  _ humphed _ at that, and Klaus stared down the hallway Five had disappeared into.

———

Back in his cell Five stood with his head against the wall. He would not cry, no matter what, because crying was dumb and kiddish. 

But everything had gone so  _ awful.  _

The first thing that had gone wrong was that he had never smelled anything like that before. He couldn’t tell person from person because there was so much, and even though he’d eaten right before, it took him so long to even be able to sit down. It was wonderful; a big huge mesh of warmth and delicious musk that completely overloaded his senses and sent his stomach howling and yawning with the bad kind of hunger. He ended up focusing so much on holding himself back from that terrible edge that would sink him under the control of his teeth and hands and hunger for days that he had completely made a fool out of himself. God, how they looked at him! They must have hated him. They must have.

He wailed.

Time passed and Five heard the clicks and groans of his cell door opening. It was Grace, he knew, because she was the only one allowed in at first to strap him into the chair. He didn’t move from his spot against the wall, and he didn’t have to, because Grace’s soft hand on his shoulder told him there would be no chair and no Reginald today.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“They didn’t like me. At all, and it’s my fault.”

She was silent for a small time, and then turned Five around to face her. “Honey, they don’t really know about some of the things you struggle with. So we have to be careful around them, so that you don’t shock anyone, okay?” 

Five sniffed and groaned. He had always known the other kids in the house could control way better; that was why they were allowed to be around each other and he wasn’t. That they didn’t even have that problem was a fact he hadn’t even considered.

“Mom?”

“Yes?”

“Do the other kids get hungry?”

“Of course.”

Five bit his lip. He didn’t think she understood. “No, I mean bad hungry. Starving.” Grace blinked in response.

“Not like you, no, honey. But you’re special, you know that? All of your other siblings have special things they can do. Luther’s very strong, Diego can throw things where he wants, and like that.”

Five felt awful. “But I don’t—“

“You do, dear. Have you ever wondered why you have the chair?”

Five frowned. “So I don’t bite Dad. But I don’t need it anymore.”

“Do you know why we don’t let you bite?”

“I wouldn’t like being bit.”

“Your bite is poison, Five,” said Grace softly. “You have perfect little lethal needles right in your mouth. No one else on the planet is special like that.”

Five blinked. “What?” Well, that wasn’t fair at all. Grace cupped his chin in her hands and smiled, sensing that he was probably going to cry.

“The way you can find things, too, just by smelling them, and you always hear me all the way down the hall. Your siblings can’t do that.” There was more to tell him. “Your father is very pleased with your restraint as of late. He wants you to sit in on some of your siblings’ training this week. Will you be alright?”

Five took a breath. Sitting in on training. He’d be more prepared this time; he knew how they all smelled now, and he could ask for their names. He wouldn’t talk about food anymore. They would like him this time. He was determined of it.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment at me. do y'all want more of this? well too fuckin bad cause there's about 5000 words of this crap written already and I'm full on my bullshite now
> 
> sorry luvs xx


	3. nah get that fire exit door luv I'm off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in this one we have:  
> \- an unlikely alliance  
> \- Klaus and his Weed   
> \- vanya hargreeves (god what a fucking angel)  
> \- five finally going off the fucking shits  
> and BONUS:  
> -exclusive ben content!

Getting there, it turned out to be a lot different.

Everyone had been fighting already and training for hours, and the musk of sweat hit him in the face like a steamroller and sent him reeling.  _ Don’t let your mouth start clicking, kid, you better stay away from the edge.  _

He ended up just standing at the edge of the doorway until Grace came up beside him and nudged him on the shoulder. It was a blur until he was sitting down.

A long row of benches. In the middle of the room, a sparring ring. The pretty dark girl from yesterday and a smallish boy with black hair were fighting with long sticks, spinning them gracefully, fluidity oozing from their pores. It was so pretty that Five almost forgot about the smells and the anxiety and wished he were in the ring, moving like that.

But he hadn’t been taught, and he never would be, so oh well. Such is life.

“Hi!”

Five yelped, and scooted.

“Oh, wait, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you or anything like that.” Perfectly coiffed brown hair fell across a face glittering with eyes just like Five’s, and the boy whom those things belonged to laughed. “I’m Klaus. Really, I’m Number Four, which is one-off from your number, so hurrah! Number neighbors!” There was too much energy in his tone. Five was overwhelmed.

Something was off, though, because Klaus, Number Four, was way too close to him--and yet there was no musk. No sweat. Instead, he smelled like--

“Plants?”

Klaus blinked, and went red. “What?”

“I’m sorry.” Five burned with hot irritating embarrassment. He hadn’t even been here ten minutes. Ten minutes and he’d screwed things up. “You smell--you don’t smell like a person. You smell different. Like plants.”

Klaus drew back, smile dropping. “Oh. Uh. Damn. I thought I washed these clothes.” He fidgeted with his hands, and Five felt awful. “I’m sorry--”

“I like it.”

And he did. Five had never eaten any kind of plant in his life. Grace brought them to his cell sometimes, so he knew what they looked and smelled like, and it was a welcome distraction. They didn’t make him hungry. They made him happy; they felt fresh and calmed him down. Klaus’ scent was the same. He knew it was just his subconscious following a pattern, but the strange citrus-pine musk could lull him to sleep, and suddenly he was attached to it and he didn’t really want to leave.

While he was contemplating this, someone else had sat down on the other side of him. He turned and was met with a noseful of girl. It was too fast and too close, and he whipped his hands up and held his breath until the screaming from his stomach subsided. When it faded, finally, he let his eyes open, and the first thing he saw was a devastated girl with bangs and a timidly shaped face. Panic.

“You smell good. I’m sorry.” Five’s eyes were in his lap again, and he wanted to be back in his cell more than anything.

“I’m Vanya. It’s okay.” She smiled warmly and held out a hand. Five took it hesitantly. No one really ever touched him except for Grace, so this was strange, and when she let go he realized he’d been holding his breath.

“What number are you?” 

“Seven.” The kind smile was back. Five decided that even if the rest of the siblings hated him, these two would be enough.

She wasn’t wearing the same loose tracksuit as the rest of them. The uniform, same as Five’s, smelt clean. “Why aren’t you with the rest of them?”

“Oh. I don’t have a power. I’m ordinary.” Vanya sniffed, and there was an undertone of resentment in her quiet voice. “Can I ask you a question?”

Klaus had moved closer to hear the conversation, and Five was hyperaware of his breath. It was distracting. “Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you ever come and have class with us?” No answer. “ Dad said you were sick?”

Oh, he wasn’t prepared for this. His mind whirred at eight hundred miles an hour, and like the  _ ding  _ of an oven offering up a turkey, his anxiety-ridden subconscious presented him with the easiest lie he could have come up with. “I  _ was _ really sick. But. I’m getting better.” Panic, panic, panic, and Vanya tucked her hair behind her ear and she was starting to smell quite good. 

Klaus tapped him on the shoulder. Five wanted to bury his face in his sweet-smelling shirt and hide there forever. “So are you gonna be doing things with us now?” Five shrugged in response; Klaus laughed and threw an arm around his shoulders.

_ Theeeere  _ it was.

It really couldn’t have been that perfect, and this was far too close. Five wanted to tell him to stop, to run to the other side of the room and stay there, but he was lightheaded and the room was swimming because now the plants were just a light cover, and underneath them Klaus smelled like a person. There was buzzing in his ears and he got about a second of respite to shove Klaus’ hand off him before hungry, empty pain shot like a bullet through his stomach and he gasped, folding in half like a piece of paper. 

\-------

Klaus went into panic mode.

Everything had been going great.  _ I like it.  _ They were talking! And every timid word seemed to stick in Klaus’ brain like a magnet; even Vanya’s interjection had been acceptable. It was going great! And he  _ liked  _ the smell of  _ weed?  _ Granted, he probably didn’t know what it was, but it still sent Klaus reeling--like this weird new kid was literally made just for him.

Still, it went wrong, because apparently nobody could catch a break in this goddamn house.

Klaus watched Five writhe and gasp on the floor, frozen with alarm. Vanya was already halfway across the room to Grace, and he registered this dimly before snapping back to reality.

“Five! Hey, Number Five! Are you--” He was cut off by a loud, inhuman grating. Jesus Christ, it was coming from Five’s throat--Grace was over and with them in the next few seconds, scooping the kid up and bolting.

Klaus stared after her. Vanya shook beside him, and the rest of the siblings had gathered around.

“You’re not supposed to move people during a seizure. Right?” Allison looked sick.

“It’s my fault. I touched him,” muttered Klaus, feeling absolutely awful. Allison’s glare was on him in an instant, and by god, she was seething.

“You shouldn’t have done that! You don’t know what’s wrong with him!”

“What, so I can’t be friendly?”

“That’s not the POINT!”

“Why are you trying to act all high and mighty like you didn’t just send him off crying yesterday--”

“Stop twisting my words! He wasn’t crying, PLUS that whole thing was weird and you know it! If I hadn’t talked you would've done the same thing!”

“God, you’re bitchy!”

Luther stepped forward, but he was too late.

“I heard a RUMOR you shut the hell up!”

_ Clack  _ went Klaus’ jaw, and as one would expect, he proceeded immediately to shut the hell up. Luther laid a heavy hand on Allison’s shoulder. She deflated. The kids stood in silence for far too long before someone (namely, Ben) decided to talk.

“Aren’t you gonna...take it back?” 

Allison’s gaze flicked over to Ben, who shrank into himself. “Luther, will you help me with my vanity? I have to throw some stuff out.” Just like that, she was gone, and loyal Number One trailed behind her with nothing more than an apologetic look.

\--------

Klaus threw a ball of knitting yarn at the wall. The needles barely missed Ben’s head. He sighed and slid out of the path of danger. “I’m sure she’ll reverse it if you give her some time--”

Klaus made a face and gestured wildly with his hands.

“Klaus, I don’t know what that means.”

A stack of comics flew. Klaus stomped his foot. Allison was a little shit, and so was Ben, and so was Mom--you know what, he may have been overreacting, but what a  _ shitty _ day. Blowing hot air through his nose, he sat on the floor. 

“Dad canceled training for the rest of the day...”

Klaus’ frown only deepened. Ben hummed nervously. “Really thought that’d cheer you up.” Stewing in his own misfortune, Klaus picked a Sharpie from somewhere in a pile of clothes and scrawled I WANNA STICK IT TO ALLISON on the wall. Ben raised his eyebrows. “How? Mom’s gonna kill you for that, by the way.”

Klaus held up five fingers. When Ben cocked his head in confusion, he rolled his eyes and stuck the hand right in front of his face. Realization. “Oh! Five? You wanna...do something...to Five…?”

There was a loud knock on the door, just as Klaus yelled “No, I’m gonna  _ find _ him, dumbass!” He blinked. “Hey, I can talk?”

The door swung open, and Allison stood there, Number Seven in tow. 

“How’d you like to form an alliance?”

Klaus stared, mouth open. Ben joined him. Allison peered in at the Sharpie on the wall. There was silence for a bit, before she turned to look back at her brother.

“Mom’s gonna kill you for that, you know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how the jesus hell and fuck have people already bookmarked this  
> anyway next chapter well-meaning siblings accidentally make everything worse and awful whoops


	4. five goes feral. sorry loves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> today five is an absolute maniac demon kid and it's really not his fault but it's about to be. comment, please, I must have validation. also updates will be coming much more frequently now since my finals have just finished

Five sighed, in his mind.

He was starting to get annoyed, now. He wanted very badly to kick something.

But he couldn’t. Klaus had flipped some sort of switch in his head, and he was a prisoner to his own body, watching from the inside as his stupid stomach controlled the rest of him. He’d been walking into the same corner for ten minutes.

There was sudden movement behind him. Instinctively he turned, watched as Grace slotted a bowl through the slot in the door, and wanted to groan as his body shambled towards it like an old man on drugs. He was normally much faster than this. Of course, the bowl was filled with worms, which, he vaguely recognized, should make him recoil in disgust. But he shovelled them into his mouth anyway, grating and growling like an animal.

Was it done? 

Was he back? It seemed like it, for a beautiful second. But alas, such is life, nothing gold can stay, and Five was almost immediately submerged once again beneath the hungry black tar bubbling up in his conscious self. There were more clouds now, and the lines between his body and his mind had begun to blur themselves. This was a dangerous impasse. It had happened before: when he ate, but not enough, he would get back control. Control, but only a little. His wants and personality began to mesh--creating an awful half-animal half-person who could barely be faulted for something it didn’t know it was doing.

There was an upside, though; now he could sit.

On the floor Five’s thoughts lay scattered and jumbled. He felt frustrated, but he didn’t know why, and it was all he could do to isolate erratic desires that pushed to the top of the mess. He wanted people; wanted love and handshakes and  _ food _ , and he couldn’t tell if the piecemeal faces trying to assemble themselves in his peripheral were things he should eat.

Howling miserably, his eyes darted like squirrels around the room, in search of invisible prey.

\-----------

Klaus had been arguing with Allison for twenty minutes now.

They, plus the rest of their siblings, had sat in Allison’s hidden place on the roof to discuss. The discussion was not going well.

“Why won’t you listen to me for once!”   
  
“I can do anything I WANT, Klaus.”

“You’re a brat!”

“I thought we had a plan?”   


“This isn’t  _ about  _ you, Diego--”   
  
“I feel that it should be about all of us,” said Luther from a corner. Ben and Diego nodded in agreement, and Klaus and Allison humphed and obliged the unspoken request. “Now that you’re quiet, I was thinking maybe not everyone should go?” Outrage. “No, I mean, someone will definitely notice if we’re all gone. So, like, two people maybe?”

Vanya’s hand was up in an instant. So unlike her, to volunteer. “I--I could do it?” Luther and Diego stared. 

“You don’t do anything.” 

Vanya’s hand retracted before you could say  _ disappointment _ . Klaus panicked; she was fading fast back into herself. “No, I think she should go. Me and her both, cause we’re the only ones who talked--oh, wait, who were  _ nice  _ to him.” Pointed glare at Allison. She growled, but understood her defeat.

“Fine. Take Luther with you.”

Klaus stared, incredulous. She had got to be kidding. Taking Luther was like taking Allison along on a FaceTime call. “No, Diego.” 

Allison looked like she was about to combust.

\----------

Numbers Two, Four, and Seven stood in Reginald’s office. The man in question was at a news conference, something he did often now. Behind the large office chair was a bookshelf. It was unremarkable.

“Did we ever figure out where to go from here?” Klaus fidgeted, uncomfortable. He was conditioned to hate this office.

“My dear!” The children whipped around to find themselves staring into Pogo’s face.

“We’re so sorry--” began Vanya, brimming with tears. She didn’t get to finish. Pogo cut her off.

“I know, Madam. I wonder what your father would think to see this?” The kind smile seemed out of place. He began to walk, moving around Reginald’s big desk and placing a hand on that unassuming bookshelf. “It really is too bad. It’s hard to watch six children at once.” He fiddled with something, and the shelf made a noise. “You all are just so wild.” The children watched him leave, blinking.

“Hey.” Diego pointed at a massive hole in the wall where the shelf had been. “Would this be where we go?”

\---------

A rickety elevator later they stood in a dark hallway. Dark was perhaps not the word to describe it; there were definitely lights--but their industrial fluorescence gave reliability for semi-bright flickers and awful hospital ambiance. The walls were token stained concrete, sacrificing any beauty they could have had for thick safety.

“I didn’t know we had a basement,” whispered Diego. It felt like you had to whisper, or you would echo and wake something up.

At the end of the long hallway there was a door. On each side of the door there were small diamond-grilled windows, and one like it embedded right in the top of the door. The kids walked towards it, for there was no other place to walk. 

Staring in the windows, there was nothing. A darkish concrete room with a tightly made bed, a hook with a hanger and a set of pajamas, a stack of books in the corner, and nothing else. Klaus fidgeted, outside.

“Does he live here?” Vanya murmured, looking sick. “It’s...awful.”

Klaus grimaced. He agreed. “It’s really plain, isn’t it? Maybe it has to be that way?”   
  
“No one has to live like this.” Vanya felt awful. She’d always been angry at her lot in life; living with a bunch of people who were better than her in every way. She would have done better staying with her actual mother, and it made her miserable every day. But this was awful; it was worse than she knew, and now she felt bad. This could have been her, and for all accounts, it probably should have been. Alone. Nobody but Dad and concrete walls for thirteen years. She touched a hand to the window, which was a mistake.

A person came from nowhere and barreled into the window with surprising force. Vanya shrieked and drew back. Klaus and Diego came with her.

“What the hell!”   
  
“Where did it come from--”   
  
“That’s  _ Five--” _

  
It _was_ Five, and Five shrieked and howled and threw himself against the window, mouth gaping and snapping, spraying drool and what might have been blood all over it. He didn’t look human, and when Klaus got the nerve to get a little bit closer, he saw that Five’s pupils were so small they were almost nonexistent.

“What’s going on? Is that him? Jesus, what the hell!” Diego had nudged Vanya behind him, and was holding a knife in one hand, stance primed and ready. 

“He wants to come out--” Vanya began, but Diego cut her off.

“He’s feral! That’s a fucking  _ dog! _ ” 

“He’s not a dog!”

“Guys?” Klaus was quiet. Too quiet; they didn’t hear him.

“Now I get that whole breakfast thing--squirrels, rabbits; he wants to fucking eat us--”   
  
“Stop! That’s not fair! He’s sick!”

“GUYS!”

Diego and Vanya turned to look. In the room, Five’s beating had paid off. A spiderweb crack had begun to form in the middle of the window. Five’s screeches began to echo louder.

“How is he that strong?” Diego’s voice faltered, and the knife clattered onto the floor. The three stepped back in tandem, almost frozen. 

As they stood gaping in the middle of the hall, the window shattered. Five’s bloodied hand burst through, bending the wire mesh.

Klaus jolted into action.

“Run.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CoMmEnT aT mE pLeAsE


	5. so five is a cat now? huh? is that what we're doing?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hey! you! spicy cannoli! you know who you are! thank you for the suggestion! I decided it was great and I liked it!
> 
> also this chapter is a bit short but I wanted to post something today

Five wasn’t sure what was going on, but he was hungry,  _ hungry _ , and there was food in front of him if he could only get through that big clear wall. It hurt dimly as he wrenched his way through, but he barely registered it. Now that the window was broken open, he could really smell everything, and it drove him crazy while he howled in tandem with the clicks coming from his throat. 

He heard the food scream, and zeroed in on it with crystal clear vision. Something in the back of his head asked him to stop because that wasn’t food-- _ that’s crazy,  _ he thought back at it.  _ You see how it smells. That’s definitely food. And we need it.  _ He was hungry, and he would die. He would die.

So he pushed himself through the window, ignoring the scratches and tears, and launched himself as far forwards as he could go.

————-

Klaus grabbed Diego and ran. Vanya was ten steps ahead of them already, Klaus noted; if there was one thing that girl could do it was run. 

She had been jabbing at the elevator button already for quite a while, but it took the doors ten seconds and a loud groan to open. All three of them rushed inside. Diego hyperventilated near the back as Vanya slammed the  _ close door  _ button as hard as she could—and got it closed just in time. Five slammed into the metal doors.

“It’s dented. He’s denting it! Hurry UP!” yelled Diego. And sure enough, there was banging, the doors were very close to folding in on themselves, and the elevator was not moving.

Klaus looked around. Five would get in, that was no doubt, and when he got in there would be nowhere to go and they would all die. He was strangely calm. “You got a lighter?”

Diego stared. “What? You’re crazy!” 

But Klaus was beginning to get an idea. “Lighter! Now!” 

Diego fumbled out a knife from his belt. Klaus yelled, but Diego shakily fiddled with it for a bit, dropping the blade to the ground. 

“When we get up out of here, Two, I will kiss you so hard on the lips.” Klaus dug in his waistband for a blunt. Diego wailed and dropped to the floor.

“You’re fucking  _ smoking! _ ”

“Yeah, but wait for it.” Klaus lit the blunt, took a drag, and started waving it around like a madman.

“What are you  _ doing?! _ That smells awful!”

Vanya grimaced from her button mashing. “It’s bad, Klaus.”

“Exactly.” Klaus waved it at the bottom of the doors. “Exactly.”

There was a  _ ping,  _ the doors slid open, and they all braced themselves.

Nothing happened.

Klaus opened one eye, then the other. He nudged Vanya with his elbow, smiling cautiously. “Look. It worked.”

Sure enough, there sat Five, criss-cross applesauce with pupils the size of dinner plates and a big happy grin plastered all over his face. 

“You got him high.”

“No,” drawled Klaus, “I think he just likes the smell.”

He stepped forward, confident. Five’s nose twitched and he was back behind Diego. They stood, watching him, for far too long, until Vanya spoke up quietly.

“Well, we can’t just leave him…”

So they (well, Diego and Vanya) dragged Five into the elevator, where he immediately passed out.

“That’s that problem solved,” joked Klaus, eyes darting around like they did when he was nervous. Vanya burst into tears. 

————

Five lay sprawled in a corner. The elevator had brought them all up, and now all six other numbers gathered to watch him.

Allison stood, nose up. “I could’ve done it better.”

“He attacked us! There’s literally no way you could have avoided that,” Diego snapped. He was still quite shaken, and wouldn’t let go of the last knife he had on him.

“We have to tell Dad.” Who else but Luther? A chorus of no’s echoed through the office. “Well, does anyone have a better idea?” 

Klaus cleared his throat. “We could just...put him in, like, a room? And tell Dad he escaped?”

Allison stared. “Tell Dad he  _ escaped?  _ From an industrial-grade cell?”

“Well, he did get out on his own…”

“So put him back! Leave him in the hallway and take the elevator back up, and that way we can’t be blamed—“

“BLAMED?!” Klaus was fuming, very loudly,  _ too  _ loudly, and Five lurched with a raspy groan, staring up at the ceiling. The rest of the siblings drew back, muttering nervously, as he pulled himself closer and closer with a bloodstained hand. He dragged himself, sputtering and groaning, and latched onto Klaus’ leg. 

Klaus screamed, but Five only held on tighter. 

“What is he doing?” Ben spoke for the first time, frozen with the rest of them. 

“I think he likes you,” muttered Allison. Slowly, she reached down, touched the back of Five’s head. He made a clicking noise and bit Klaus’ leg--not hard, not to draw blood, but soft. Klaus smiled, then laughed. He turned to the others.

“Aww, guys, can I keep him?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment pleeeeeeeeeeese


	6. that sounds nice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in all honesty I know I posted literally yesterday but this is one of the best chapters I've written I think; really tried to focus on some f e e l i n g s in this one
> 
> also klaus has a bit of a naughty dream here but its nothing graphic ahaha (unless the crowd wants it in which case I shall have to oblige)
> 
> he is a very horny teenager what can I say
> 
> anyway comment pleeeeeese

Five sat in the middle of somewhere. He felt lightheaded and sick, but tried to be brave and not show it. It would not do to be weak; not now, when he’d just come out of feeding. Normal procedure now would be the mask and tubes he was fitted in his chair, to get him used to control of his own limbs. He drooped, remembering it would be at least three days before he would stand on his own again, and reluctantly opened his eyes. He expected a concrete wall, or maybe the door to look at if his chair was positioned the right way.

Instead he saw colors.

Gasping, he fell, and then wondered at why he could gasp--a hand to his face and he wasn’t wearing his mask or tubes. Or the chair, for that matter.

“Sorry, it’s messy,” blathered a loud voice from beside him, and Five recognized that whoever this was had been talking this whole time. He felt a surge of unwarranted irritation. He liked his routine and his organization, and now he felt drowned by the piles of clothes and books. It was almost too much, and he felt himself angering.

“Where’s home? Take me back.” When there was no response, he grew more upset. “Take me back!” Now he was fuming. His legs were weak and he had used up almost all of his energy feeling for the mask earlier. If this went on he could do nothing about it. The loud voice from earlier sat down in front of him, and it was attached to a face with pretty green eyes. Five definitely knew that face. “Four. What’s going on? Can you take--take me back? Please?” His voice cracked on that last word. He was exhausted.

“It’s Klaus.” The boy in question fidgeted, as he was wont to do, and could not meet Five’s eyes. “This was the only room you could be in. I’m sorry.” He saw Five blink. “It’s-it’s just that all the other rooms smelled too much like people, we thought, and here is just--”  
  
“Plants?” It’s all he can smell. “Where is my cell?” 

“Uh--” Klaus wasn’t sure how to phrase the fact Five had Walking Dead-styled his violent way out of the big concrete block he seemed to miss so much. “You’ve got cuts all over you. Vanya’s off trying to sneak a first aid, but I don’t think you’re bleeding that much anymore, which is weird because you were really going at it earlier. Hah.” Five didn’t laugh, and Klaus got the sense he was confused. “You kinda hurt yourself trying to eat me, and now you’ve just got to stay in here for a while, okay? That good?” 

Five was frowning. “My chair. And my books. There’s writing in them.”  
  
“No more chair. I can try to get you the books but I can’t promise anything, and for now you can write in these.” Klaus held up a magazine and laughed. On the top of the magazine was printed _Top 10 Hottest Male Celebrities!_ above a large picture of a shirtless man in a cowboy hat. It made Five feel strange, and he wrinkled his nose. Klaus guessed that meant he didn’t find it funny and threw aside the magazine as fast as he could. “Uh, sorry. Um.” He got up, moving across the room to shovel a massive pile of cloth off the bed. Five turned to look with some difficulty. 

“You can sleep here. I’ll be on the floor, over there, or something.” Klaus squinted at him. “Can you walk?”

Five burned with embarrassment. He should be walking. He should be sat in his cell, recovering, not sitting here in this messy room with this weird boy for no reason. Things could change a lot in three days, he realized, and he’d only ever seen it happen in books. He tried to stand and couldn’t, tried to move and fell, and it was only then he realized exactly how poorly he felt. “Help me,” he slurred, and he wasn’t sure what exactly he needed help with. Klaus hummed, reddening, and leaned down, hoisting him up and staggering backwards. 

“You’re heavy--one sec--” 

Five’s face lay buried in Klaus’ neck, and it was unsafe. He tried to talk, but small noises were all he could make, and Klaus was muttering random nonsense anyway and could not hear him. It was agonizing, trying to keep alert. He could feel the blood rushing through Klaus’ veins, and he knew how nice it would be to tear and bite, but he had to have restraint. Restraint. He was good at it. That’s what Dad said. He was good at it, and he could do it, even if the room was tipping and swirling and his stomach beginning to throb.

Klaus felt teeth settle on his neck, and remembered with a jolt.

He threw Five onto the bed without a moment’s notice, a bit more harshly than he would have liked--but it was preferable to getting devoured. Five lurched once, then lay still. He took a breath. “Can you hear me?”

Small _mhmm_ from the bed. 

“Uh--I’m gonna give you some pajamas, and then I have to go to dinner. Dad’s not back until tomorrow, so we can talk about it then as a family or whatever. I’ll--I’ll see you later, kay?” A smile and a pair of pajamas later he was gone, and Five lay staring at the ceiling. It was refreshingly blank, free of the posters and Christmas lights that cluttered the walls. He wished he could melt into it. Ah well, though. 

He turned and pressed his face into a pillow. It smelled like Klaus just enough to give him pangs, but not enough to be a problem, and anyway it was mostly the same planty musk that had saved him before. It was good, and he sighed, forgetting the pajamas and dozing off. 

He woke briefly a few minutes later, uncomfortable, and managed to change and fall back asleep almost immediately. He would stay here for a bit, then.

 _That sounds nice,_ he thought, just before his mind shut off.

\-----------

Dinner was a torrid affair. No one ever spoke anyway, so it really shouldn’t have differed much, but today there was an air of nervous energy above everyone. Grace fussed a bit, but Pogo eventually calmed her down and sent everybody to their rooms early. Klaus was quite pleased.

He saw Five was asleep and tiptoed to the best of his ability, trying to change as quietly as he could. He’d shower in the morning; he didn’t feel like fighting Luther and Diego (who were both night-showerers) for the only bathroom they were allowed to use. Creeping closer to the bed, he watched Five sleep. The pajamas were too big for him. It was cute. But shit, he’d got blood all over the bed, which would not be fun to explain to Mom.

Klaus sighed and kicked a couple piles of clothes together, grumbling a little. Nicking a blanket from the bed, he settled. It took him longer than usual to fall asleep.

\----------

Klaus had a vivid dream that night. 

In it Five sat on his bed, clean and still in Klaus’ too-big pajamas, and laughed. When Klaus took a step forward he jumped off the bed, light on his feet, and kissed him on the cheek before disappearing. It was colored in the sepia tones of an old doctored photograph, and Five’s nails were long and painted red.

He woke in the morning before his alarm with sticky sheets and a burning conscience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tell me what you think and want to see!! mama is feeding you todayyyyy


	7. veruca salt more like five goddamn hargreeves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> today I watched charlie and the chocolate factory. can you tell what I internalized
> 
> in other news I also spent like three hours today rewatching tua because I felt I was becoming disillusioned so enjoy this f r e s h content
> 
> pls comment y'all know it keeps me goin <333

Reginald stood and surveyed the damage. Grace stood by his side, hand at her mouth in a programmed gesture of shock. 

The inside of Number Five’s cell lay in quite the same state as it always had. Neat and clean, it stood the same way Reginald had taught the boy to make it. The glaring difference, of course, was the bloody, smashed window. Reginald peered through the opening. 

“Grace, read me data from last time Number Five’s vitals were checked.” When she did not respond, he turned. “Grace, read me data.”

Grace looked ashamed, which was strange. “Vitals normal for an episode.” She looked at the floor.

“Grace.” Reginald stood, hands behind his back, brow furrowed. “The last time you took Number Five’s vitals?” He stared at her, trying to read her face. If that failed, he could always download her emotive history. “The schedule clearly states for a check every three hours in accordance with Number Five’s observed episodic lapses.” He got no response. “When have you checked?” 

Grace looked up, fright in her eyes. “Seven a.m. today, two p.m. yesterday.” The words were quiet; she was scared. “I believed it would be best to see if Number Five came out of the episode on his own.”

“Are you inane?”

“He’s much older now--”

“This is insubordination of the  _ highest  _ degree,” snapped Reginald. “Wait for me in your painting room. I will have to check you for bugs.” Grace nodded, bowed, and left the room. Reginald thought she looked upset.

Finding Number Five would be of the utmost priority now. Reginald turned to leave. 

“Master Hargreeves, sir--” Pogo had been beside him this entire time, it seemed. He was easy to miss. 

“Get me security footage from two yesterday up until seven this morning.” Pogo bowed in response, but looked uneasy. No matter. Reginald swept out of the room without a second thought.

\----------

Five kicked Klaus’ wardrobe as hard as he could.

“I want it now! Now! NOW!” Stomping his feet, he screamed as loud as he could. Klaus looked like he wanted to die and shushed him frantically, trying to calm him without touching him. 

“Well, I can’t very well get this thing for you if you don’t tell me what it is!”

“You promised! You PROMISED me and if you don’t keep your promise I’m gonna break everything you own and rip all your dumb magazines, and that’s not even all of it cause I’ll bite you and then you’ll die! I’m gonna KILL you!”

“If you kill me who’s gonna keep the damn promise?” Klaus stood, hands out, in a protective stance, as Five screeched and threw himself onto the bed. He lay there, flailing, like a toddler in a grocery store. Klaus watched in disbelief. “Who  _ raised _ you? And what the hell do you even want?” He waited for a response. Nothing coherent was forthcoming, so he sighed and sat down on the side of the bed. “I can wait here all day.”

This rudimentary logic ended up working. Five couldn’t throw tantrums all day, and eventually he just lay facedown on the bed, whining softly.

“Do you wanna tell me what’s wrong now?” Muffled yowls in response. “Come on. Use your words, hon.”

That was apparently too much for Five, because all he did was point at something across the room. When Klaus saw it, he groaned. “Mamba Number Five, I can’t go back down there without getting caught, and if I get caught you get caught. Don’t you wanna stay out of that weird cell block?”

At that Five’s head came sharply up off the pillow. He glared at Klaus. “I wanna go back. That’s my home and I didn’t ask for you to come put me here!” 

Klaus huffed. The logic seemed rudimentary to him, but he couldn’t think of a way to counter it. “If you annoy me any more I might put you back anyway.” Five shut up, which was surprising.  _ Oh,  _ Klaus realized,  _ he didn’t really want to go back. He’s just trying to push my buttons. But why would he do that and act like a Dance Moms toddler on crack--oh. Shit. _

_ He’s hungry.  _

“Hey, I can try to get you your books. What’s in them, anyway?” Five didn’t respond, only turned to the wall so his back was to Klaus. In response Klaus just sat on the bed and scooted closer. “Whatcha writing that’s so important? Self-insert Twilight fanfiction?” Right, he could feel the confusion practically dripping off of Five. Backtrack. “Come on. What’cha wriiiiiiting--”   


“I do lots of math. It’s important.” Right, well, there went all of Klaus’ interest. He was zoned out for who knows how long before noticing something wrong. Crashing back to Earth, he was suddenly confronted with Five’s face inches from his. It made him blush until he realized that the microscopic size of Five’s pupils and the way his jaw was gaping was very unsafe indeed. Yelping, he was on the other side of the room in ten seconds. Five sat on the bed staring vapidly at the empty space where Klaus had been, clicking and rattling. 

Klaus recognized that if he didn’t do something in the next ten seconds he was dead meat. Well, five--four--three--two--

He lunged for the lighter on the nightstand the same time that Five lunged for him.

\----------

There was a knock at the door, and Klaus opened it in a bit of a stupor. When Vanya and Ben walked in they stared.

Five lay snoring on the bed, disheveled and haphazard. Klaus stood there equally dishevelled and missing a blazer. 

“This bitch will not stop trying to eat me,” Klaus moaned. “And when he’s  _ not  _ on his way to devour me, he’s having  _ extremely loud  _ tantrums and kicking all my stuff!” 

Vanya raised her eyebrows, understanding. But that wasn’t of any importance--there was bad news. 

“Dad wants us all in the dining room. He’s back.”

Klaus stared at her, then back at Five. “Shit.”

Ben looked disappointed. “Well, what did you expect? No one cleaned anything up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment and ill love you forever (haha lmao you know those tumblr girls that used to be all like "I probably hate you anyway" well I probably love you anyway)


	8. something wicked this way comes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was going to wait to post this cause when I wait for a few days in between updates it always generates better traffic, but I found out today I actually suffer from something called IBD (Impatient Bitch Disease) and it gave me no choice but to put it up today.
> 
> Thoughts and prayers in the form of comments much appreciated.
> 
> (also ik there's a couple people here for the meat and not the klive so if you wanna skip those bits I shall summarize the important parts in the end notes for you ehehe)

The kids stood in a line. Klaus glanced behind him every few seconds, which was the wrong thing to do, because Reginald popped him on the side of the head and bent down to his level. 

“What are you looking at, Number Four?” He was looking at Klaus right in the eyes. Klaus couldn’t remember the last time Reginald had done that, and began to sweat. 

“Nothing. Sir.” Ben held his hand; it was trembling. “There’s--where’s Mom?” At that he saw Diego perk up out of the corner of his eye. Of course. Mama’s boy. But Reginald didn’t answer, and instead made his way up in front of them all. He was coldly silent for a horrendously long time before speaking. 

“You will tell me where Number Five is. His location is imperative to the safety and scientific progress of this household.” When no one responded, he turned to Pogo. “I shall have to locate him myself, then. Punishment is in order. Have we taught you children nothing?” No further words, and he walked away. Pogo followed. 

“Oh, shit.” Diego was the first to step out of line. “He’s thinking it over. That’s--that’s really bad.” 

Eventually their murmurs grew to frantic conversation--Vanya began to cry, and Ben put an arm around her, upset. They were too loud; Luther shushed them. “Where’s Klaus?”

Klaus, the boy in question, was running as fast as he could around the outside of the house. One, two, three windows from the left-side wall, and he banged on his bedroom’s. No one answered. Shit. Well, he never locked his window--and after what was probably upwards of five minutes yanking and cursing he finally got it open and tumbled into his room. Five sat slumped in a corner, wearing Klaus’ pajamas, and when he saw him threw the thing he’d been reading across the room as quick as he could. Klaus looked over.  _ Top 10 Hottest Male Celebrities.  _ Eeesh. He’d deal with that later. 

“Couldn’t you hear me? Banging? And such?” Eyes kept flicking frantically to the door. Not much time, he suspected.

“I’m foggy. Headache,” muttered Five, blinking groggily. “Hungry.”

“Well, hey, listen, you can control that, can’t you? Because, uh, we might have a situation here in a bit--” Klaus began to empty his chest of drawers. “Where the hell--ah! Here.” He turned to Five, hands full of lighters and pre-rolled blunts, and tried to stuff them in his waistband. Five made a noise and kicked him. 

“ _ What-- _ !”

“Just trust me, okay? You don’t have any damn pockets, here, do it yourself--” Shoving all the stuff at him, Klaus shooed him towards the window. “Light them and smell them if you get too hungry. And come back here in, like, three hours, I just needa get Dad off our backs--”   
  
“Wait, he can help me!” yelled Five, just as Klaus pushed him out the window. He poked his head up, confused, and Klaus groaned and turned to him.

“Maybe he can. I don’t know. But I do know that if he finds you in here wearing my clothes and reading shit  _ I’m _ not even supposed to be reading, it’s gonna be a really bad time for both of us and probably the rest of everyone that fucking helped you!” Five still stared, looking upset, and on a terrible impulse Klaus leaned down and kissed the tip of his nose. Five frowned and cocked his head to the side, which was just irresistible, so Klaus kissed him on the lips. Immediately it was not as nice as his dreams. Five just stood there, doing nothing, and Klaus thought that he should very probably move and shut the window fast--but it was the first time he’d ever kissed anyone and the hopeless romantic writing poems in the back of his head screeched that he must stay put. 

That didn’t last long. Five nipped at his bottom lip and Klaus was happy, but then he kept going and Klaus registered with alarm that he was literally about to bite through it. Pushing Five off of him, he ducked back into the window and yanked the pane down, no time for jokes. Five hit the window once and then was gone. 

Shit, shit, shit, and what the hell had he just done? The bottom half of his face felt numb, and Klaus turned to the door. He heard footsteps. Reginald. The sheets were still bloody. He stumbled towards them, losing feeling in his legs--it took him two wobbly steps to topple, and then he couldn’t move at all. What was it that Five had said?  _ I’ll bite you and then you’ll be dead.  _ Oh, shit, shit shit shit, he’d just kissed Medusa. 

The footsteps got closer, but Klaus couldn’t hear anymore. Reginald opened the door with a crash. 

His fourth test subject lay on the floor, foaming at the mouth, and dried blood caked the sheets lining the bed next to him.

Well, this was a start. He’d better boot up Grace.

\-----------

Five wandered out to the front of the house, barefoot and reeling from all the thirty new things that had been shoved at him all at once. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been outside, and the sunlight hurt his eyes and burned his skin, but there was no shade. 

Sometimes Grace kissed him on the forehead, very fast to keep Reginald from seeing, so Five understood that kisses were special things for people who loved you. That was strange. Klaus was loud and mean and definitely didn’t like him. But it was a nice thing to think about, because he felt pretty alone, and he missed his mom, and it made him not think about how hungry he was for a bit. Even so, he didn’t think he’d do it again. The distraction was fleeting, and at the end of the day it was a very edible person very extremely close to him, which was bad. He probably would have bitten had it lasted a few more seconds.

Speaking of biting, his mouth was watering. He’d reached the street.

People walked everywhere, paying no mind to the snapping kid in pajamas in the middle of the sidewalk. In fact, they walked right past him. Five smelled all of them in tandem, immediately losing whatever train of thought he had and falling back in his head until he was a passive watcher, delirious and lightheaded as the people moved and he clicked his jaw. 

Someone was pointing at him, but there was too much. He couldn’t focus on any one thing or any one person, and he was frozen where he was, gaping. The person pointing at him dragged someone closer. It was a woman, pulling a large man behind her. She looked concerned, but at this point Five couldn’t know that. The woman talked to her counterpart, and he eventually bent down to Five’s level.

“Hey, kid, you okay? Jesus, Marie, call 91--”

Five zeroed in on the loud voice and close proximity. This man’s arteries stood out like a beacon, and he wasted no time.

It was glorious. He knew already how it went, the way skin and veins almost crunched under his teeth and the way that prey flailed and screamed and went useless for him. There was lovely warm blood all over him now, and the woman screamed and cried, as helpless as her husband. Five bit and tore and growled until someone pulled him off his meal and hurled him as far as he would go. This made Five mad. Screeching, he lurched off the ground and ran as fast as he could. There was screaming and yelling all around as he bowled over his first victim’s unfortunate wife, latching on to one of her cheeks like a candy apple. She got him off--just barely--and lay there, unresponsive. Someone ran to her to give CPR, and Five swayed, gorged on blood like a tick, next to these dead people. Someone rushed at him with an umbrella, and he clicked back to reality with a groan, jolting into terrified flight like a pigeon. He felt lethargic and full and still lightheaded, but the frenzy had faded because now he had eaten. It was hard to run, but he was still faster than the people coming after him, and he ducked ino an alley and hid there, waiting.

\--------

Reginald gaped at the carnage outside the house. This was the absolute  _ worst  _ scenario. A woman and her husband lay dead and half-eaten in the middle of the street. People gathered and talked, and a police car rounded the corner, and a man who’d probably been in close contact with one of the victims staggered and lurched with blood on his mouth. Reginald watched. Being the scientist he was, it was almost irresistible, to watch and try to deduce. The staggering man fell to his knees, and Reginald could hear him scream from where he was. That was interesting. He’d obviously come into contact with Number Five’s poison, but how? And why was his death so much slower and louder than previously observed? Reginald couldn’t see any bite marks or obvious wounds on this one, either.

The man lurched and fell, and a police officer ran out of the car that had pulled up, shouting at the crowd to clear and kneeling. CPR, thought Reginald, won’t work on him.

Oh, damn. CPR.

There was the reason for the blood around the suffering man’s mouth. And there was something that was very, very dangerous. Reginald was here to save the world from an invisible threat. As the police officer blew air into the dead man’s mouth for the fourth time, he had a dreadful premonition he had already failed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> basically in the klive bits klaus does a Big Fat Horny Mistake and kisses the bitch right on the smackers, which was a very bad idea because five is poisonous!!!!! and now number four is very heavily indisposed (but not dead yet)
> 
> anyway comment at me what you think regional hargrieving-your-awful-parenting-abilities is so goddamn worried about


	9. a bloody child! coming to a window near you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hello my darlings it's me again! I promise I have the logistics of this strange disease-thing all completely figured out and boy is it a doozy! am also very excited for the next bit my oh my is it gonna be something
> 
> tell me anything you wish in the comments my dears
> 
> (OH SHOOT I posted this without realizing: trigger warning!!! attempted sexual assault, be cautious loves)

Allison watched the news on the household’s only TV. It was interesting today! An attack in the middle of a crowded street. There wasn’t any footage of the incident, but camera crews would be there in a bit to report from the site. Three people were dead and nobody knew anything else.

“Hey! Ben, c’mere.” She beckoned to Ben, who was on the other side of the room trying to snort chocolate milk. “Look at this.”

He came closer, squinting at the screen. “Hey, isn’t that just across the street?”   
  
“Huh?”

\----------

Nicole Redmel, police officer for the 3rd precinct of Wentworth County, sat in an uncomfortable chair in her station. She was somehow excited and fuming mad at the same time--on one hand, this was the first death she’d seen on the job! Two weeks ago she’d been a meter maid, and she felt elated to know she’d been promoted just in time. This thing could make the office really take her seriously. Not that anybody made fun of her or anything, but it’d be nice to stop fetching everyone coffee all the time, or maybe even get invited to after-work drinks. The possibilities were endless.

On the other hand, though, she was so nervous she’d forgotten procedure. And the binders of paperwork that would come because of it. There was an ambulance on the scene, so CPR on the man in cardiac arrest had definitely not been necessary, and now she might be evaluated for her mental state. Which meant she was sitting in a hard, uncomfortable chair outside the chief’s office, waiting to be called in like a common civilian.

In Chief Bentley’s office, she coughed twice, which would kill him before the week was out. Walking out of the office with three binders and a bursting folder, she was so on edge that she snapped at Officer Nina, who’d bumped into her. So close to their faces, that sealed the fate of the rest of the office.

Nicole Redmel, police officer, went home early with a headache. She ate everything in her fridge before vomiting blood and passing out. Her husband, worried and meaning well, called an ambulance. The EMTs loaded her into an ambulance and took her to the hospital, where she died delirious. They then went home to their families at the end of their shift.

\--------

In the Hargreeves household, Reginald stood watching his fourth experiment lie in heavy, drug-induced sleep. He would live, which was all that was necessary. It would be interesting to see what happened--what this dose of poison did. It was strange. Thirteen years of study and he still couldn’t classify this chemical Number Five carried with him like a loaded gun. The child was an enigma.

Grace told him the other children were all in bed. Brain wave monitoring would be a welcome distraction, and Reginald left all his problems with the boy in the hospital bed and followed her to his surveillance room.

\---------

Five stumbled as far as his legs would take him. It was dark now. That was nice. Streetlights and traffic made a beautiful mosaic of soft light and shape, and people chattered all around him. He watched a group of taller friends laugh and go into a brightly lit store. Pressing his face to the window, he saw them smile. He was glued to them, watching them, when somebody turned and screamed. 

It’s not farfetched to scream if you’re out on a late night and pressed to a window near you is a bloody little boy you’ve never seen before, but Five didn’t realize that. He ran, scared, and fell right into a large figure. The man bent to his level.

“What’s wrong, darling?” His teeth were crooked, and he smelled too much of rancid tobacco for Five to find him appetizing. “Been in a fight? Need somewhere to stay?”

Five nodded, then shook his head. “Not a _fight_ ,” he muttered. He didn’t like this man.

“Come with me,” Tobacco Man said, and closed his hand around Five’s arm. Five tried to shake him off and couldn’t. “Don’t be difficult, now. Huh? You homeless, kid? Listen, you need money?”

Five shook his head frantically. He didn’t want anything from this guy. But the man only tightened his grip, and held Five’s jaw in his other hand. “I can help you make money for a favor, kid.” Five didn’t answer. He couldn’t; Tobacco Man’s pincerlike grip would not be shaken.

He was dragged into an alley and thrown against a wall. “What do you want?” he slurred, exhausted and tired. The man approached him, dragging him up and pinning him with his face to the wall. 

“Be quiet and I’ll be quick, kid. I’ll pay ya.” The man’s hand found its way around, covering Five’s mouth. Five stood, confused, until the man tried to drag down his waistband and Five acted on instinct. He bit the hand as hard as he could, not hungry at all, and Tobacco Man yelled and drew back. Five flipped around so his back was to the wall, staring with wide eyes. 

“Oh, FUCK you, kid! Little brat, I’ll fuckin kill you!” he snarled, rushing at him. Five met him with teeth. Tobacco Man was possibly the worst thing he’d ever tasted, which might have been due to the dirty coat he was biting through or the stench. Either way it took all Five’s willpower to keep clamping, and blood flew. Now the man was howling, and slapping him with his other hand, and now he stumbled back again. Five went in on instinct for the kill shot, tearing out his jugular and jumping back as quick as he could. The man gurgled up blood and lay still. Five spit out the stuff in his mouth, even as his stomach grumbled. Gross.

This was probably bad, though. Now he’d bitten, what, three people? And they were all dead. He tried to feel awful, but just felt...apathetic. Tired, and a little hungry. He stared out at the busy street, and recognized that he couldn’t keep doing this. It was messy and people would scream, and most of these city walkers probably smelled and tasted a lot better than that gross man. He’d frenzy fast.

Sighing, he turned to try and find another exit, and knocked his foot against something. Bending down, he noted a lighter. It had fallen out of his waistband. 

That’s right. 

Klaus wasn’t so bad, huh?

\----------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment or I will come to your house and take all your left shoes whilst remaining at a respectable distance


	10. that would be fax :)))))) but ur printer's broken <3 UwU ;)))

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alright kids. I am late. so so late ahahaaaaaaa
> 
> that's okay though, because I love you  
> anyway this chap just irons some stuff out before a big big crash. exciting isn't it
> 
> please pls comment at me I know y'all commented last time and then I was late but I promise if y'all comment this time I won't be a bastard and instead will be SUPER EARLY

Klaus sat up and stared at the wall, deliberately avoiding Allison’s rock-hard gaze and hoing she wouldn’t notice.

“You’re avoiding me.”

Goddamnit.

“We have to talk about it! Dad’s off training Luther for some secret thing, so now’s all we have! What happened?” She didn’t look that condescending, actually, which was a breath of fresh air. 

Klaus was still wary. He’d just woken up from what seemed like an endless siege of nightmares, all of them about Five and his teeth. It had left him shaking and sweating, though that might have also been whatever the hell Five had given him. To sell things short, Klaus was anxious. He was very anxious. He was scared, as well, and confused, and felt horrendous.

So he turned to Allison and put on his most serious voice. 

“I know what he is.”

Allison and the others behind her (Diego, Ben, and lastly Vanya almost forgotten in the back) leaned forward, eyes wide.

“What did you learn? What is he?” whispered Diego from the back. Ben elbowed him.

Klaus looked up to the ceiling, trying to force a tear. “He’s...impossibly fast, and strong. His skin is pale white and ice cold--”

“I heard a rumor you were serious for once in your life!”

Allison turned, frowning, to Vanya. “It only works when I do it.”

“Sorry.” Back into the shadows. That would be all her talking for today.

“Anyway, like I was saying--”  
  
“You weren’t saying anything. You’re not gonna tell us anything.” Allison fell back, stumbled when there was no Luther to catch her, and crossed her arms angrily. “How’d you even _get_ poisoned?”

Klaus huffed. He could either tell them or lie. Telling them was bad on every count; kissing Five was probably the most reckless thing he had ever done, no matter how many dreams he had or how much he liked Five’s eyes. He’d be crucified in sibling court. Even Vanya might wrinkle her nose.

On the other hand, Allison would know he was lying immediately and leave him in a Dumpster to die. But there was no other choice, unless…

“You guys wanna know what I caught him reading yesterday? Man, was it hilarious. I mean, I’d be curious too, if you know what I mean, and it’s not like I carry _Fifty Shades of Grey_ around with me all the time, but man! Can I blame him? But me, myself, I don’t really agree with it. I mean, it ranks Ashton Kutcher number three on the list. Ashton Kutcher! If it were up to me, he wouldn’t even be _on_ the list. I mean, for me, the top ten hottest dudes have gotta be, and here’s in order--” he blathered, typical Klaus fashion. Allison shrieked and stormed out. 

“Now that she’s gone, will you tell us what happened?” sighed Ben, eyes on the floor. Diego repeated after him, louder.

“Nothing happened. I just, like, got too close, and--”  
  
“He BIT you?!” Diego had been out for blood ever since the elevator, and Klaus sensed that he would jump on any excuse he gave him. 

“No, he didn’t bite me, and it was my fault aaaaaanyway, and it doesn’t matter. So. Someone help me out of here?”

\--------------

Five meandered out of a clothing shop, mellow and high as a kite. There had been cameras all over his cell back home, and he was a teenage boy, so obviously he knew how to avoid them. Sneaking past store cameras and salespeople was basically the same.

He'd cleaned the blood off his face and stolen a new pair of pajamas (all of the other clothes confused him, so he’d just gone with what he knew). Outside the store, he looked around. The city lights were beautiful, and people milled around, talking and laughing. Five wished he could watch them forever. 

A woman in a red coat got out of a yellow car and ran to another woman, yelling happily. They kissed each other on the cheek, which piqued Five’s attention. He walked over, all the inhibitions he might have had dulled by the weed.

“Why did you do that?"

The woman with the red coat startled and turned to him. “Why’d I do what, kid?”

“Kiss her? Do you love her?”

Red-coat frowned and looked around. “This is my best friend. Haven’t seen her in ages. Where are your parents?”

“When do you call someone a best friend?”

The other woman nudged Red-coat, who bent down to his level. “Kid, you’re, what, like, twelve? You’re really asking me what a best friend is?”

Five nodded, eyes huge.

“Well, uh...I guess it’s somebody you like being around. Someone fun, and somebody who cares about you. Like, who’s been there for you, and shit like that--oh, sorry. Stuff like that.” She frowned. “You okay? Where’d you come from?”

Five stared, confused. Should he tell her? He didn’t know her. Alarm bells!--but alas, the high had not come down, and his inhibitions were still tangled up in a mess at the back of his head.

“Down there. The boy I live with kicked me out.” He pointed. 

Red-coat’s companion turned and whispered to her. Red-coat then turned back, concern written all over her face. “Okay, stay here, hon. Don’t go anywhere.”

Five looked around placidly, completely unaware.

\---------

Luther stood in his father’s office, holding the tranquilizer gun gingerly. He was afraid of breaking it, even though he’d been learning how to use it for the past five hours. It had taken a lot out of him. The gun was heavy, even for him, because of all its magazines and different types of dart-bullets. There were thirty-seven in total--fourteen lethal, three dazers, seven horse tranquilizers, and thirteen regular bullets. Luther knew this because it was, according to Reginald, “imperative that he be able to assess a situation and respond effectively with the correct level of firepower lest all of humanity be doomed.” It was wordy, and Luther wasn’t much of a _words_ person, but he understood well enough. He was being sent to capture Number Five.

Something nagged at him. After all, he’d seen Five himself, and they’d been hiding him for a bit. But Dad loved them, and only wanted the best for them, right? So it was best that Five be delivered back safely. That was key; safely. He sweated, remembering the fourteen lethal darts and the thirteen bullets. He couldn’t forget and use the wrong one. If he forgot, he’d kill his brother before he got a chance to ever really talk to him.

He hadn’t been down there with Klaus and Vanya and (eugh) Diego, but he’d heard what they said. Five could be dangerous, and he was _really_ fast, which meant he had to be sedated, probably. So Luther had to stay alert, and not use the wrong bullet. He couldn’t use the wrong bullet.

Reginald finally looked up from his notebook.

“Number One, I am sending you out effective immediately. Recapture and bring him to me. Oh, yes. Grace!”

Grace stepped out from behind the desk and handed Luther something. Luther looked at it, confused. It was hard plastic, with straps and a small grate on the bottom--

“Is this a muzzle?”

“Necessary, Number One.” When Luther did not respond, Reginald looked up again, annoyance clear on his face. “Dismissed!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again I am a rat bastard little upstart of a woman and I need your comments to tell me what y'all want so I can d e l i v e r
> 
> do y'all know how much it took out of me to split thirty-seven up into pieces that added up to thirty-seven at two in the morning


	11. imMUNITY????!?!?!?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aidan gallagher (actor: number five) has this smile that he does sometimes. and by god is it the creepiest goddamn thing. like in actual pictures that are actually him he'll like have the whites of his eyes showing on all sides and like he's not even smiling with his eyes, but his mouth is contorted into this friggin like. american psycho expression where his lips just DISAPPEAR and there's all these weird lines that should not exist on a boy of sixteen years old (who is STILL five foot three by the way I'm a little worried)
> 
> I have never seen an actual human fall into the uncanny valley before. I am so fucking terrified of that goddamn kid

Five sat in the back of a police car. He was agitated and jittery, but they were taking him home, and that was all that mattered. He was going home, to his mom and to Reginald and to the others. Friends? He didn’t know. Klaus certainly seemed to think he was a friend. Maybe a  _ best  _ friend. He smiled. That was nice. 

The car slowed to a stop in front of the wrong house. Five’s smile slipped from his face. The door opened, and a man in blue--Officer Rydock, he’d said--gestured for him to get out.

“Why did you take me here?” Five tried his best to stay calm. He already had a hard time with that, and he’d had a long day. “This isn’t my house. What are you doing? You’re supposed to take me home. Why didn’t you take me  _ home! _ ” 

Officer Rydock frowned and tipped his head. “You said you lived on this street, kid. Which house is it?”

Five tried to take a breath. It was a mistake. He made mistakes all the time--well, now, thinking about it, he couldn’t remember any one incident he could be completely faulted for. He suddenly wanted to bite this officer. He could. He could bite him, and then the stupid guy wouldn’t make any more stupid mistakes. 

Apparently, he looked disturbed, because Officer Rydock knelt down to his level. “Hey, we just need you to show us where you live, okay? I wanna talk to your parents.”

“My mom didn’t do anything wrong! Why do you wanna talk to her?” barked Five, two words away from a meltdown.

“Okay! Alright. She didn’t do anything wrong. But we still wanna know why we found you wandering around out there, okay?” The officer sniffed, frowned, and stood back up, turning to his partner. Five used this as an excuse to slip out of the car and run. It took him two minutes to lose the cops, and another three to lose himself. 

He knelt, in the middle of a street, and stared at a fire hydrant. 

\--------

Luther walked, determined. It was dark outside and he was drawing attention to himself. The gun was huge and cumbersome, and he passed the time by reciting in his head the different kinds of bullets it held and proper procedure to fire each one. He was tired. He wondered what Allison would say. She would probably tell him to stop worrying so much; he knew how to use the gun, because Dad wouldn’t have chosen him if he couldn’t do it. Wow, he missed her, and he’d seen her this morning. Was that love?

Lost in his musings, he almost tripped over a kid sitting in the middle of the street, and frowned. “Hey, watch where you’re going.” No response. “Hey!” 

The kid didn’t move, and as Luther bent down in front of him he saw that it was Five. Five looked ahead, wide-eyed, tight-lipped smile stretching way too far. It was the creepiest thing Luther had ever seen. 

“Five? Are you okay?” He waved a hand in front of his face. Five didn’t move. “We gotta go home. Dad sent me to find you.” He frowned. “Stop playing around. I can see you blinking. That’s not funny.” Against his better judgement, he patted Five on the cheek.

Five yowled and lurched like a cat. Luther yelled and drew back, gun in hand, instinct giving him the wherewithal to have it aimed with the safety off in about .05 seconds. But Five wasn’t moving, frozen in a deer-in-the-headlights stance, and Luther forced himself to calm down. “What just happened?”

Five relaxed, slowly, staring warily down the barrel of the gun. “You can put that away. I don’t bite.” The wide smile was back, and Luther cocked his head, sweating.

“What?”

The smile was gone. “Doesn’t Klaus do that?” 

“Do what? Joke?”

Five lit up, waving a finger. “Yeah! That! That’s what he does!”

“Maybe you should stick to...you know, whatever your whole…thing is.” Luther gestured vaguely at Five’s whole body. “Um. What were you doing? Why did you leave?”

Five shrugged. “Klaus threw me out of a window. I didn’t like that very much. And I got lost, so I sat down to think. Do you have a problem with that?” He looked so haughty, even as a scrawny five-foot boy in storebought pajamas, that Luther felt uncomfortable and irritated at the same time.

“I don’t understand why you didn’t just...go back to the front of the house. What have you been doing? Did you steal those clothes?”

Five cackled. It was an awful look on him. “It’s not stealing if you don’t get caught.” 

Luther shifted. “Okay. Let’s...let’s go home.”

\----------

Klaus paced in the first big stairwell. Ben and Vanya were sat on the stairs, disappointed as always.

“So, let’s go through this right here for a second. Number Five, our estranged not-sibling who never got an actual name and eats raw people for a living, is currently out on the streets hunting for human meat. Dad sent  _ Luther  _ to retrieve him, which will probably end in one or both six feet under in the next hour. Three random people just died out front of  _ our house,  _ and it’s probably Five’s fault and by extension mine because I’m the one who let him out in the first place! And let’s not forget that if Five and Luther somehow make it back here alive, Five goes away back to the big bad prison cell and we never see him again! Oh, and Dad likes Luther  _ more. _ ”

Klaus whipped around, staring holes in his siblings. “Does anyone want to tell me who I can  _ blame  _ for this bullshit?!”

Ben raised his hand. “Pick on me, teacher! Yourself.”

Klaus howled, head in hands. “I KNOW!”

Diego slammed into him. They went toppling onto the floor, Klaus shrieking like a dying cat. “Sorry! They’re--they’re back. Five’s back. And also, there’s police at the door.”

“On GOD--”

\-----------

The foyer was just about full. Luther stood, gun still pointed at Five, who looked bored. Diego was staring out the window at the police cars, mesmerized. Klaus and the others (sans Allison, who always migrated to Luther) stood in a line. It would take precisely twenty more seconds for Reginald and Grace to get there. 

Five waved. “Hi.”

“Did you kill those people outside?” So Allison wasn’t taking shit today! Good to know.

“I was hungry. It’s not like anyone tried to stop me.” Five rolled his eyes. Allison tried to say something else, but he cut her off with a yawn, and moved out of direct sight of Luther’s gun. Klaus drew back, but Five walked up to him anyway, and said, “Are we best friends?”

Normally Klaus would have made a snide remark, but Five’s eyes were suddenly the largest, most emotionless things he’d ever looked at, and he was very afraid. “Okay. Sure. Yeah.”

Five’s entire countenance lit up, and he leaned forward and kissed Klaus on the lips before anyone could stop him. Allison yelled in confusion, and Five broke away to look at her. Klaus whipped his hands up to his mouth. 

“Oh, my god. You just killed me--I’m gonna die, oh my god--that’s twice! That’s never good! You can’t do things like that twice, that’s looking a gift horse in the mouth! Shit!” He went on yowling, and Diego tore his face away from the window to stare in disbelief. 

“THAT’S how you got poisoned? Because you were horny! God, Klaus!”

It was cacophonous. Five cocked his head in confusion at the whole display. He turned to Vanya, who was staring, mouth open. “That was not right, was it.”

Klaus had quieted. “Wait. I can still move my mouth. And my arms. I’m fine.” He looked at Ben, whose head was in his hands. “I think it’s fine, guys. False alarm!” He laughed shrilly. “Wait, why  _ am _ I fine?” 

“Registered immunity.” The group whipped around and were met face-to-face with Sir Reginald Hargreeves and Grace behind him with her head bowed. “It is my belief that Number Four’s previous exposure to Number Five’s toxins, combined with the unique properties of Four’s powers, have provided him with immunity. Whether such is partial, temporary, or both, I have yet to know.” He glared at Five, whose demeanor fell apart instantly. “This situation--this  _ insubordination-- _ has resulted in senseless death and police investigation, not to mention other consequences. All of you, down the hall and into the parlor. Sit and wait.” The kids were gone in a scuffle of a second. Reginald adjusted his blazer and opened the door. Four policemen stood and looked at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls comment loves this is my escape


	12. FIVE IS A BRAT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hello lads. in this one five begins his journey from well-reasoned brat to proper bastard, and Klaus just wants a cute boy on god someone get this man a medic
> 
> FAIR BIT OF KLIVE! it beginneth where the asterisks ***** doth lay, and endeth when the chapter finishes its valiant march. as always I will summarize the important bits in that part for y'all who don't want it
> 
> (also a bit of a longer one today)

Diego stared daggers at Five, who sat, sulking, in a corner. He couldn’t believe it. 

He’d never liked the kid, from that weird conversation at breakfast to the time he’d almost killed Diego in that weird basement, but he’d only decided he  _ hated  _ Five when he’d started staying in Klaus’ room. That wasn’t fair at all. Diego knew his best friend, and he knew why Klaus wanted Five in his room so bad. It was gross, he thought, and also not fair, because Five was a whiny arrogant little zombie brat who didn’t deserve Klaus’  _ time,  _ much less  _ affection.  _ And a lot of affection it was, too.

He looked across the room. Klaus had sat next to Five, and they were so close it made Diego gag. Ew. 

Loud sounds from the front hall snapped Diego out of his sulky reverie. He slipped Lucy (his third favorite dagger) out of the holster at the back of his shorts and threw an arm out to halt whoever might be behind him. Someone hissed (probably Allison) but he moved forward anyway, into the front hall.

“Dad?”

Reginald turned around, covered in blood. An officer choked and fell behind him. Vanya screamed. The scene made Diego stall for a moment; as the officer threw up blood on the floor, police lights flashed in the sliver of outside through the door. They cast a backlight on Reginald, who looked smaller and frailer than he maybe ever had.

Lucy clattered on the floor as Diego watched his proud father lurch past him. Grace, suddenly at his side, herded him out and back. She made no time for any of the kids, disappearing in a moment with their father.

The pool water in Diego’s ears drained all at once, and the sounds of crying and confusion flooded in too loud. He looked around him, startled by Klaus’ frantic, close face. 

“What just happened? There’s a dead guy on our porch!” Klaus looked as if he was about to throw himself off a third story window, and Diego grabbed him by his shaky shoulders.

“Cool down. Cool--calm! Calm down! Everything’s fine! Will you SHUT UP--” Soon he and Klaus were yelling at each other in tandem until a loud, grating screech silenced them. Looking back, they noted that Five stood, quite upset, in the middle of a wary circle of kids. 

“Everybody needs to stop yelling. I’m tired. Can we go to bed?” Five complained, rolling his eyes. Diego sputtered.

“Do you not--” turning to Klaus, “Do you know what is  _ wrong  _ with his  _ brain _ ?!” Diego looked about to burst a vein, so cue the best mediator the Hargreeves family knew. 

Ben stepped closer. “I think we should get the dead guy off our porch. And call an ambulance. To help with the dead guy.” Everyone looked at him like that was obvious. “But then, maybe we should go to bed? And, like, come back in the morning…? Because, it’s just, there’s a lot happened today, and maybe we can think better in the morning?”

Diego and Klaus looked at him like he was crazy, but Luther nodded his silent approval, and that was that.

Except for the fact that that was very much not that.

\--------

Two hours and the kids stood in a line, wearing masks as people in Hazmat suits stretched yellow tape everywhere and zipped up body bags. Those who were in a position to do so glared at Ben, because this had all been his idea. Luther stared longingly at the dart gun, sealed off in a bag marked EVIDENCE. 

Allison sighed through her mask. “Excuse me.” No one stopped their work. “Excuse me!” A Hazmat suit stalled and looked at her. “Um, the press will be here in a bit, so if I could get back to my room so I don’t have to look like this, it would be great.” 

The suit gave a loud sigh. “No press. Containment is priority right now. Maybe tomorrow, kid.”

Allison looked like he’d broken her brain. “What?”

“No press, I said. This is too high-profile.” He moved on. Allison’s right eye twitched. 

“I’m sorry, could someone please tell me what you all mean by  _ no press?  _ We’re the Umbrella Academy.”

“What, does that count for something?” muttered another suit beneath her breath. Allison shook, close to an aneurysm. 

“It counts for QUITE A LOT, actually--” Luther laid a hand on her shoulder and shook her head. Allison made a strangled, high-pitched noise, but quieted down. Her faithful stooge, Luther, picked up her line of questioning. 

“What are we supposed to do? Is our house a crime scene?” His loud questioning continued for about another thirty seconds, when a plainclothes officer in a face shield sighed and herded them all into their living room. He was about to speak when he was interrupted. 

“Excuse me; is everything all right here?” Grace tapped him on the shoulder; he leapt back, hands on his holster. “Can you explain why my children are being herded like animals?” Her programmed smile never left her face. 

“Ma’am, I’m going to ask you to step back. We can discuss in another room--”

“My children are old enough to know what is happening in their own house. Please, Officer.” The smile only widened. 

“Uh--” He coughed. “We have to place your house and the family under quarantine, ma’am. Please be patient with us as we investigate the situation further. Are you these kids’ legal guardian?”   


“Yes, sir.” Nothing behind her eyes. 

“Are there any others? Isn’t there--their father, where is he?”

“Peru.”

“Is there any certification of that fact?”

“Quarantine? Was that officer ill?” One of the things about Grace was that her emotions came in full programs; there was no nuance. So the switch from empty welcome to strong concern happened too fast for anyone to make sense of it, and the officer’s hand tightened around his holster. He moved back, uncomfortable, and Grace moved with him in a strange waltz until he was almost outside the room. After muttering a few things and getting a few soft answers, she turned back to the kids. The officer ran like a dog set off its leash. 

Seven children looked up at their mother with big, confused eyes. Grace sighed. 

*******

Klaus lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling. There was absolutely no way in hell Mom expected for anyone to  _ sleep  _ tonight. Too many things were going around in his brain. For one, apparently they couldn’t leave the house. There was some kind of weird thing going around, and the officer who’d spit up blood all over Dad and then died was a “probable carrier”. So now  _ they  _ were all probable carriers, and they had to stay in the stupid house until one or more of them died. Or at least that was how Klaus heard it. 

For two, Five was back wherever. He couldn’t stay in Klaus’ room anymore, Mom said; it was dangerous. It had been fine before, but whatever. Klaus would sulk about it, then. They had literally been doing fine until Dad stuffed his stupid nose in everyone’s business, and then he’d kicked Five out, and god knows what Five had done--but now people were seriously dead who probably didn’t deserve it, and Klaus could barely make out whose fault it was.

Jeeeeesus, he just wanted to forget this ever happened. 

A knock at the door. Klaus jerked up on the bed, grumbling. He’d very much rather sulk alone. But when the door swung open and Five stood there, wide-eyed and somehow still cute, Klaus decided he didn’t really mind all that much. 

“What are you doing here?”   


“Mom had to charge. Watch this.” Five slammed the door and was on Klaus’ bed in an instant. He dropped his head on Klaus’ neck and stayed there, immobile.

Twenty seconds passed. Klaus shifted. “Okay, cool...trick?”

“No, you don’t get it! Look!” Five threw his arms around the other boy and inhaled. “I don’t  _ smell  _ you.”

“Yeah, cause of the weed. We’ve been over this, hon--”

“No. You’re so stupid.” Five’s happy cuteness disappeared; now he was irked, and it showed. “I don’t wanna eat you. Not even a little bit, and I always wanted to a  _ little  _ bit.”   
  
“Ow. Thought we were friends.”

“Yeah, but listen! It’s like I have two people in my brain, and the first one is usually in charge and that’s me, talking right now, right? But the second one’s actually, uh, a dog with rabies, and it’s always looking for food. So no matter what I’m doing or who’s in charge, I’m always aware of stuff around me that I can eat, and up to a certain point I can ignore it.”

“Okay…?”

“And you were always  _ there _ , but under the line, right?”

“You’re still sitting on top of me.”   
  
“But now, you’re not there at all. It’s like you barely exist.” Five’s creepy-ish wide smile was back, and his face was far too close to Klaus’.

“So I don’t exist? Okay. Cute.” Klaus pushed Five off of him and slid down from the bed. Five scooted forward so his legs hung off the edge and cocked his head to the side. 

“This is a good thing,” he intoned. “Now you get to do whatever you want and nobody has to worry about me biting you. Or you dying.” 

Klaus sputtered and turned around. “What do you mean, I get to do whatever I want? What are you talking about?”

“I don’t ever touch anyone, like you always do with all the others. I can’t do that with people, because I frenzy too much. But I don’t frenzy around you anymore, I keep  _ telling  _ you. C’mere.” Klaus moved forwards warily. Five took one of his hands and placed it on his shoulder, smiling. “See? Look at that!” 

Klaus reached out and flicked on a bedside lamp. The yellow tones collided with the Christmas lights adorning the walls (Klaus almost never turned them off), and turned the room golden. It relaxed him, and he sat down next to Five. “You came in here to tell me that you don’t wanna eat me? Come on. There’s more.”

Five blinked. “No. That’s it.” Klaus laughed, but Five slapped him across the face, now clearly annoyed. “I said, that’s it. What’s so  _ funny _ ?”

Right. Now Klaus could take a gamble, or he could send Five back to wherever he came from and go to bed.

Except he wouldn’t sleep because  _ who the hell would be able to sleep,  _ and Five practically glowed next to him, and obviously there was some kind of something going on, so why waste it?

So he kissed Five for the third time, and stayed on his lips for a lot longer than he had before.

Five didn’t push him away or slap him, which was good, but he didn’t kiss back and he didn’t put his hands anywhere either. Klaus broke the kiss. “I’m sorry--”

“Why? Do it again.”

Klaus lifted an eyebrow. “You know, if you’re on board with this sort of thing, you usually kiss back.” When he saw the blatant confusion on Five’s face, he sighed. “Just follow my lead and do what I do.” 

The next kiss was better; Five was a quick learner. His hands stayed limp in his lap at first, and Klaus had to move them himself to get Five to understand that he had to use them. It was cute, honestly. Klaus had never kissed anyone but Five before, but he’d pirated movies and read magazines, so he was a lot better than him. When he came up for air again, he noticed that they’d moved. Now Five lay on the bed, legs wrapped around Klaus’ midsection, hair mussed, eyes still as large as ever.

“Is that ok?” Klaus asked, dizzy. Five’s right hand combed through his hair, twirling strands through his fingers. “Do you wanna keep going?”

“Touch me,” Five purred, and who was Klaus to deny him?

\---------

The room was completely dark now. Even the fairy lights were out.

Klaus lay on his side wondering where things had gone wrong. Actually, he definitely knew. Why couldn’t he have had a crush on a nice, normal boy, and snuck out to see him at two in the morning, and they could have made out like normal people and messed around like normal teenagers? Klaus would have loved to have a regular-person boyfriend who knew how to kiss and hold and could take him to movies and shit. 

But no. No, he was stuck with this weird stick-figure of a Lego who needed Klaus to tell him how to do  _ everything  _ and only thought about himself. (Klaus wished he was lying about that first part; even though by all means Five looked like a malnourished Lego, all he saw was maybe the hottest person in a forty-mile radius.) It was exhausting.

It hadn’t gone that bad, really, at first, because Five made cute noises and clutched the sheets, but Klaus was quickly learning that doing things in real life was messier and took longer than all the movies he’d seen. Five had to learn everything from scratch, and by Klaus’ third time explaining what the word  _ dick  _ meant, he was wondering if he was messing around with a cute boy or teaching a sex education class to a bunch of middle schoolers. That didn’t completely kill the mood, but it didn’t help either. 

Another unhelpful addition was the fact that Klaus did not know how to stop talking. In a ten-minute interlude, he’d tried to explain to Five everything he knew about sex, and it had gone about as well as the  _ Titanic.  _ Midway through the lecture, Klaus had realized how boring it was and tried to adopt the show-don’t-tell tactic. Five threw a tantrum, because apparently he couldn’t start learning things and not finish them, and no amount of Klaus’  _ you’ll learn the same stuff if we stop talking and get back to kissing without shirts  _ calmed him down. 

So they’d finished the lecture, and then Five had pulled a pad of paper and a pen out from Klaus’ desk. 

“What are you doing?” Klaus had asked.

“Making a list so we don’t forget to do something.”

“It’s not--you can’t--” But he’d let Five make his dumb list, which was probably the worst decision he’d made that night. When Five figured out they didn’t have anything they needed to actually go through with most of the list, he threw another tantrum. This one ended in a broken alarm clock, and a facedown Five on the bed.

Klaus had settled down next to him, and it didn’t take long for Five to fall asleep. Klaus hoped nobody had heard the commotion. Five was loud when he was upset.

And now he lay staring at Five’s back, in a dark room, unable to sleep.

He’d had worse nights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in the klive-heavy section five sneaks into Klaus' room because he's figured out that klaus no longer smells appealing at all to him. like not even a little bit. and of course klaus is confused but obviously sees this as an Absolute Win, so they try to mess around but five ends up having like 3 tantrums in a row which puts an end to it and now they're just uncomfortable
> 
> y'all better comment and remember that I love you personally


	13. I PROMISE I DIDN'T PIRATE S2 BEFORE IT CAME OUT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IGNORE THIS SUMMARY IF YOU HAVENT SEEN S2
> 
> I PROMISE Y'ALL I WROTE THIS WEEKS AGO AND STRAIGHT UP FORGOT TO POST IT AND THEN WHEN SEASON TWO CAME OUT I--I PROMISE YOU IT IS A COMPLETE COINCIDENCE THAT FIVE ACTS LIKE HE CONSTANTLY SUFFERS FROM PARADOX PSYCHOSIS OH MY GOD 
> 
> but I'm SERIOUS the psychosis scene is literally HOW FIVE WAS as a teenager just like 3% more unstable and I will die on that hill
> 
> FUCKIN FUDGE NUTTER

Klaus woke up to high-pitched screaming. Panicking, he stumbled out of bed and grabbed his lamp, yanking the cord out of the wall to use it in a sort of half-fight stance. “Whossat? What’s going on?”

Nothing substantial was going on, apparently. When Klaus’ groggy vision cleared, he saw Five sitting cross-legged on the floor, eyes and fists squeezed shut, screaming into nothing. Klaus dropped the lamp and fell to his knees in front of him, grabbing him by the shoulders. 

“Are you asleep?! What the hell! You’re not supposed to be in here anyway, I-- Shut up, shut up shut up shhh shhh shhhh--” 

Five’s screeches slowly turned into something resembling words, but all Klaus could make out was  _ “too bright--”  _ and  _ “stop it!”  _ He growled and considered his options. That rational discourse didn’t last long, because Five’s whole shtick was starting to really, really irritate him. He endured about ten more seconds of it before snapping and hitting the kid as hard as he could across the head. The screeching stopped, and Five’s huge eyes were wide open and staring right at Klaus.

Sweet silence for a few seconds. Then Klaus tried, “We need to have a talk about your behavior.”

Five didn’t like that. His face went from ghostly pale to bright red in a matter of seconds. “You’re making--gonna talk to me about MY goddamn  _ behavior  _ when you don’t even know how to do a single thing, ever?! You never understand--here--and here, you know you’re the stupidest most useless person I’ve ever met in my whole life, right?! You’re useless! You are! Everything in your head is just  _ stupid  _ and I don’t know why I have to deal with it! All of you are pointless annoying bags of shit and I  _ hate-- _ ” The words dissolved into screeching again, and Klaus dropped his head into his hands. 

“I cannot believe I have to deal with this.” When he looked up, he noted with alarm that Five had gotten off the floor and was pulling books off a shelf in order to tear pages out and chuck them at any available wall. 

“FIVE! NUMBER FIVE HARGREEVES! STOP IT NOW!” Klaus looked frantically around the room for something distracting, remembering his  _ Walking Dead  _ comic series--zombies liked high-pitched sounds and clinky, pretty things, right? He spotted something shiny across the room and lunged for it. A lighter. “Five! Look! Look at this!”

Five stopped yelling and grabbed it out of Klaus’ hand, sitting on the bed to flick it on and off. Klaus stared in disbelief. Five was easily distracted, moody, impulsive, and wouldn’t be told he was wrong. So this had to be a delicate operation.

He sat gingerly next to him. “Hey, you feeling okay? Are you, uh, hungry?” Five shook his head, still focused on the lighter. “Okay. Um. Can you tell me why you were mad just now?”

Five groaned and flopped on his side of the bed, curling up away from Klaus. “Shhhh. I don’t know.”

“You don’t know why you were mad?”

Five sat up again, lighter forgotten as sarcasm settled across his face. “Do you know why you get mad?” 

“Uh...yes?”

Five blinked. “You do?”

“Do you just get angry for no reason?”

“I don’t know, Klaus. Sometimes I’m happy and sometimes I’m mad, and sometimes I’m really bored. I don’t know why. It’s just not something you turn on and off, yeah?” He leaned over, but Klaus laid his hand on his lips and gently pushed him back. 

“You can’t control your emotions.”

Five looked confused. He pushed Klaus’ hand away and went back in for a kiss, but Klaus turned his head at the last second so that Five only got his cheek. Pulling back, he tried again, but Klaus kept blocking him, curiosity written on his face. After the fourth time, Five clicked his jaw and slammed his fists on the bed as hard as he could, face screwed up into itself. 

Half a minute of fists and he seemed to get bored of it. He threw himself on the floor. Klaus winced. Still, he let him exhaust himself kicking and pounding for a couple minutes before sliding off the bed and running his hand through Five’s messed-up hair. It didn’t calm him down, and he lifted his face up, opening his mouth to yell. Klaus didn’t let him.

Klaus didn’t intend for it to last more than a few seconds, to calm the kid down, but Five kept at it hungrily and messily until Klaus had to shove him off. “You’re--it’s not just that you can’t control your emotions, it’s that  _ they  _ control  _ you _ .” 

Five looked extremely upset, and stood in a huff. “Nothing controls me. I control me. You’re making me mad. Go away.”

“Five, if I kept talking for another, like, ten seconds, you’d be on the floor again like a two-year-old. That would be really embarrassing for  _ me  _ to do. And I know you have, like, this weird superiority complex bratty-kid thing you got going on, and that kind of ego with toddler temper tantrums just doesn’t mix!”

“What are you talking about?”

“My point is that you don’t  _ want  _ to get all mad and break stuff and yell at people and run away all the time. You  _ have  _ to.”

Five stared like he’d just walked in on him in the shower. “I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do. I choose to do things.”

“You’re not hearing me! Do you want to eat people? Do you? No, but you have to, right? When you frenzy or whatever you can’t control yourself. I’m just saying that maybe this is the same thing.” 

“But I--” Five’s brazen stubbornness had completely drained from his face. “That’s…” He didn’t finish. Klaus reached over to do something, because Five looked lost, but was interrupted by the door.

Diego burst in. “Hey, I know it’s like six in the morning, but can you guys stop making out or whatever the hell it is you’re doing and come join the rest of us?” 

Klaus gasped. “You have such little faith in me, brother. I’m  _ so  _ chaste.” He turned to Five with a smirk, but Five just blinked and looked confused. Sigh. Klaus again wished he had a normal boyfriend. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ignore for spoilers but comment please
> 
> I can't believe they literally listened to us so much we said "give Vanya a gf" and they delivered we said "more ben" and they delivered we said "let five say fuck" and they delivered we said "we hate allison and luther" and they delivered we said "luther is gross make him better" and they delivered we said "himbo diego" and they deliv


End file.
